


I Could Go With You

by impulse_baker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Smut, profound bonding, season 11 finale alternate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:01:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulse_baker/pseuds/impulse_baker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate to season 11 finale: Dean can't leave without telling Cas what he has been too stupid to say for seven years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Go With You

**Author's Note:**

> I was hoping for some kind of Destiel resolution this season, so when that didn't happen (spoilers...?) I decided to write my own Destiel lovin'. This is just self-indulgent smut. Enjoy!

Dean could feel the power of all the souls within him, he could feel the magnitude of what he was about to do. Inside him, he felt the writhing souls, begging for release, and beyond that, he could feel the pain of each one. He felt the betrayal, the anger, the desolation, and most overwhelmingly, he could feel the pain of lost love and the pining of these lost souls for their mates. Somehow, all of this crammed inside him made him even more aware of his own soul, its individual radiance and desire. Dean laughed to himself, thinking Cas did one hell of a job putting it back together all those years ago.

Cas.

_No,_  Dean thought,  _not the time, get your head together._  But something else was telling him,  _Yes Dean this is the exact time, in fact, this is the only time you'll ever get._  Instead, he focused on Sam. He focused on the life he hoped Sam would lead, hoping that whatever he did when Dean was gone, he was happy. He was doing this for him, after all, for little brother Sammy.

And Cas.

Well, of course, he wanted to save Cas, he was his best friend. He'd be a shitty friend if he didn't think he was trying to stop the Darkness from destroying Creation for the sake of those he loved. Not that he loved Cas. In that way. Right? It was straight to love your best friend. In a way. It was straight to want him to comfort you before you went off to nuke yourself to save him. It was straight to have your best friend consume your every thought as you tried to think of the best times of your life. Cas was his happiness. In the straightest way possible. 

\-----

Dean was saying goodbye. Everything around him was a blur, the words he exchanged with Chuck, his embrace with Sammy, all of it was a whirlwind. The only thing he seemed to be able to zero in on was Cas's breathing. He seemed freakishly aware of his friend's heartbeat, and had to double check it wasn't his own he was hearing. His thoughts immediately went to the case he and Cas and Sam solved together three years ago when a man's heart beat out of his chest because of Frank's psychic ability. He smiled at Cas' hopeful smile when he said he would be a hunter, their third wheel. He wished it could have stayed so simple. He wished more than anything, that it was just the three of them, still on the road, hunting things, saving things, doing the family business. He wished he could see that easy hopeful smile Cas wore for him that day, one more time. In the straightest way possible.

 

"Cas."

Dean pulled him into a hug. He breathed in the feeling of holding his best friend close to him, took in his strong arms and firm grip.

"Okay, okay. Yeah alright," was all Dean could mumble, not knowing what else to say. He closed his eyes briefly, to fight off every urge inside him, to refuse the push of the souls within him to find his resolve with the man in his arms.  _This is it Winchester. This is it, don't you dare fuck this up._  He let go before he did something stupid, like cry, before he-

"I could go with you."

That was it. Every emotion he kept pent up for seven years pushed to the surface and spilled over his eyes. He cupped Cas' face and brought their foreheads together, closing his eyes so his tears couldn't be seen. To his surprise, Cas did not back away from the intimate gesture, but rather dove in, resting his hands on either side of Dean's face and letting out a broken sigh. 

"Dean. Let me go with you."

"No Cas. This is something I gotta do on my own." Cas was willing to go down with Dean every single time shit hit the fan. He went willingly to his death alongside Dean in the alternate universe where Sam said yes to Lucifer. He put aside his unwillingness to engage in violence to join Dean in defeating the Leviathan, despite knowing it would end in death. He marched alongside Dean to every possible end they could face, ever suicide mission Dean embarked on, Cas was an unyielding presence, a devoted companion.

"Don't you understand, I'm doing this for you, man. I want you to live. I want you to have a chance out there, to be happy. To look out for Sam, to have a life outside all the times I brought you down, I want-. I need you to be happy man. All I've ever done is hurt you. I gotta fix that."

"Then let me go with you."

As if mojo'd away, Dean found the two of them alone in the bunker when he opened his eyes. The writhing inside  him was telling him  _this is really it, don't let it end this way, find your completion with him._  More curiously, he thought he heard Chuck whisper to him,  _this is the greatest love story I've written, don't you dare scmhuck it up. Give it a bitter sweet ending Dean, give the readers what they want. Give yourself what you want._

As if on cue, Cas leaned into Dean, still holding his face and pressed a chaste kiss to his parted lips.

"I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition Dean Winchester, only to see you throw yourself back into harm's way, time and time again. I've accepted I can't save you, but don't let me be without you. I will walk into Hell with you again Dean. Or Purgatory. Or the Darkness. Or the Void. Let me come with you." Cas breathed out this last sentence, barely above a whisper, and the tingling sensation of the kiss combined with Cas' closeness and Chuck's "command" drove Dean to succumb.

Dean crushed their lips together, tracing Cas's lower lip with his tongue and the angel followed suit eagerly. The hunter put one hand on the back of his angel's neck - yes,  _his_ angel - and wrapped the other around his waist and under the trench coat, pulling him impossibly closer. He dared to untuck the white shirt from Cas’s slacks, craving to know the feeling of his skin. As he tugged, he suddenly pulled back to look at the man in his embrace, unsure of himself. Castiel cocked his head to the side questioningly, furrowing his brows over the impossibly blue eyes.

“Cas, is this, I mean, do you… are you good…”

The fallen angel closed the distance between them to whisper in Dean’s ear, nipping his ear lobe and peppering his neck with kisses.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Having Castiel’s consent broke down every wall he built in his head against this and removed all inhibition. They both wanted this. They both needed this.

The angel continued his exploration of Dean’s neck and jaw with his tongue, and sucked his claim into his skin. The hunter couldn’t help the undignified moan that escaped him and the dark chuckle that came from Cas told him he was pleased with the effect he had on him. Dean pushed the coat of Cas’ shoulders and helped him shrug out of his blazer underneath, shedding his own layers in the process. There was only Castiel’s white shirt between their chests, and as if he grew impatient with Dean’s fingers fumbling with the buttons, he pulled off his tie and tore off his own shirt in a swift movement. There was a sense of relief that accompanied the meeting of their bare chests for the first time, but it still wasn’t enough for Dean. He wanted more. He wanted it all, whatever that entailed between the two men.

They worked at the angel’s belt and slacks, dropping them to the floor with his white briefs, and even in this heated, Dean could not help but stop to look at his angel in his entirety, in all his glory. He remembered the first time he saw Castiel, all powerful, baring his wings, sending sparks (literal and figurative) flying, and still, he looked more glorious in this moment than ever before.

The angel pulled them together once more, kissing Dean gently, passionately. He had his hand on the small of Dean’s back and the other in between his shoulders, holding them as close as possible. When he pulled away to allow Dean to breathe he travelled down, worshipping every inch of exposed flesh before him. He stopped at his hunters’ nipple, taking it into his mouth, sucking, flicking his tongue at it, biting down and rubbing the other with his forefinger and thumb.

“Shit Cas,” the angel silenced him by putting two fingers into his hunter’s mouth, and Dean sucked compliantly.

Castiel continued working at the skin with his tongue and teeth, lower and lower. He pulled his hand away from Dean’s mouth and held both hands on the man’s hips, and then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with his teeth. The act in itself was almost enough to send another surge of heat between his legs. He ached to be touched but was willing to take it as slow as his angel wanted, to savor every moment of slow ascent into completion.

Cas nuzzled at the hunter’s erection through his boxers and mouthed at it through the fabric, making Dean moan.

“Dean. Graze your nipples with your fingers. Play with them for me.”

The deep baritone command sent shockwaves through Dean’s body. He didn’t understand how simple words could make his raging hard on ache even more, but he wasn’t going to question a good thing.

Dean did as he was told and was rewarded by his cock being engulfed in the best sensations he ever felt. His angel tongued at the slit where a pearl of precum had formed, then sucked the head into his mouth, still flicking his tongue at the tip. He bobbed his head, taking a little more of the throbbing cock into his mouth each time before pulling back just to the head, until he took all of Dean into his mouth, the head pushing against the back of the angel’s throat. Cas swallowed around him and Dean had to strain himself so as to not let it be over so soon. He wove his fingers into his angel’s hair and pulled him up to kiss him. He could taste himself faintly on the other man’s tongue and he longed to know how he would taste mixed with the angel’s own come on his mouth.

“Dean. Bedroom, now.” This was all the warning the hunter got before there were hands gripped at his thighs, hoisting him up so that his legs were wrapped around Castiel’s waist. Dean never really forgot that his best friend was a powerful being, but it was easy to have it slip his mind that he has strength unimaginable to him and that he was able to lift a one-ton anvil with no effort. Dean’s weight was nothing to Cas, and this impossibly turned him on even more.

Cas laid his hunter down onto his bed with some force and climbed on top of him, rutting their hips together. The friction was driving Dean insane. Nothing had ever felt this good, and they hadn’t even gotten to the main event. He was starting to wonder if the intensity of the physical sensations had something to do with their “profound bond” but he didn’t have time to think too hard because his thoughts were interrupted by a slick probing around his entrance. He let out a gasp and Castiel kissed it away, cupping one hand around his hunter’s jaw and looking into the deep green irises.

“Dean. I am about to do something I’ve never done before, and something I don’t think you’ve ever done either. I want you to tell me if at any time the sensations are unpleasant.”

Dean could only nod and lift his chin to kiss his angel reassuringly. He trusted him. They trusted each other. The angel above him pieced his body and soul back together, for crying out loud. If he trusted anyone with his body, it was Cas.

He heard a click of a cap and another round of sleek probing followed.

“Cas do it, damn it. Do it,”

“I do not take well to orders, Dean Winchester.”

At that, Castiel penetrated his tightness and stared down at the man beneath him, both searching for any signs of unpleasant pain, and with a dominant pleasure. He continued to finger Dean, adding fingers slowly, scissoring, curling them to hit his prostate, making him moan around him. When he was satisfied with his lover’s preparation, he removed his fingers and reached for the lube to ready himself. Dean snatched it away and squeezed some into his palm, warming it up. “Let me.” He pumped the angel’s cock and became slightly worried from the impressive size of his lover. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it.

As if he was able to read the man’s mind, Castiel leaned down to kiss him. “I need you to relax for this Dean. You’re doing so well, being so good, my righteous man. Relax. Let me take care of you.”

He continued his praises as he pushed the head of his cock to Dean’s now loose hole.

“So beautiful Dean. The most beautiful of all of my Father’s Creation. You are everything to me and you’re being so good for me,” he said in between peppered kisses to Dean’s jaw and throat, easing him into taking the entirety of his length. When he bottomed out, Dean let out a whimper and Castiel shuddered at the sight of himself joined so physically intimate to the single being he had devoted himself entirely to. Even his own Father, even the Heavenly Host could never, in all his millennia of existence, inspire the level of devotion he felt for this man.

They found a rhythm that varied between hard, purposeful thrusts and slower grinding. Castiel’s eyes rolled back in his head from the tight heat clenched around him but opened his eyes, wanting to commit everything about this moment to memory. The sheen of sweat on his lover’s forehead, the kiss-bruised lips, the fluttering eyelids. He wanted to memorize everything, because this was the last time they would be exactly as they were. He gripped the brand on the hunter’s shoulder he left all those years ago and cried out. This man had been his since the moment he stitched his soul together with fragments of his own grace, he had been his all this time, in every sense, and this act of love between them made the bond complete. In that moment, Dean swore he felt a surge of something cool and whole and light reach out to him and for the first time, he remembered what it felt like the first time Castiel laid a hand on him in Hell. He was flooded a feeling he could only describe as a connection to Cas. This sent them both over the edge and Dean spilled onto his stomach and Castiel filled Dean’s insides with his release.

They laid in bed for a while afterwards, kissing softly, whispering all the things they had left unsaid the past seven years.

“Cas.”

“Yes Dean.”

“I remembered.”

“Hm?”

“I remembered when you saved me, the first time. In Hell. I remembered how I felt, except it didn’t feel like it was just me. Like, I could feel what we were both feeling at the same time. I remembered. I… I fell…you know. We formed our bond. I remembered everything. Your grace, it’s in me isn’t it? Like, part of it? And it happened again just now, didn’t it?”

When green finally met blue, there were tears swimming in the angel’s eyes.

“I didn’t know if you would ever remember. Yes, Dean, your soul and my grace, they bonded again.”

“Cas.”

Dean fought to get out the words he knew he needed to. He was angry with himself for still being unable to say the words, after everything. After his soul freaking bonded to his grace, he couldn’t get three simple words out. So he settled on the only thing he could say.

“Come with me.”

\---

Dean sent up a prayer to whoever was listening to take care of Sam, as he walked with Castiel to their end.

“Castiel.”

The angel cocked his eyebrow at the full usage of his name and stopped to turn to Dean.

_Say it_ the souls urged.

“I… God, Cas. You are the only person I would want to be with in the end. And I know that we aren’t just dying. I know that when this happens, we’re not going to Hell or Heaven or Purgatory. I know we’re going into whatever emptiness Chuck sealed Amara in, in the first place. I don’t know if we’ll be together there, I’m kinda holding on to that hope, but when does that ever really go our way? Anyway, I just want to say, before I never get the chance again, that I, umm. Damn it, I-“

“I love you, Dean. You don’t have to say it. You never had to say it. I know. And I love you. I will meet the end with you Dean. Whatever the consequences, I will share your fate.”

 

 


End file.
